揇essert??
揙f course.?
She laughed and whisked the plate away before returning with a square of tiramisu. I dove in with enthusiasm.
This was fun, I realized, grinning to myself. The second I stopped caring if people were staring at me, I started enjoying myself.
And so what if they stared at me? They抎 see Hannah Nielsen with a cute haircut, wearing a pretty dress that made her look like she might have boobs, eating an indulgent dessert and reading a book. Maybe they抎 think, Hannah Nielsen抯 living a good life.
Th閞鑣e would say something like, they would be lucky to stare at you, 慳nnah. I took another bite of the tiramisu and my eyes rolled back in my head.
My skin prickled and I opened my eyes. Wyatt towered over the table, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were dark, gaze heavy on me, and he frowned like I had offended him.
It was the same expression he had given me in my bedroom.
揧ou cut your hair.?He leaned down, resting his palms on the table, still watching me with that intense look.
All I could do was nod. My fork hovered in the air. My pulse pounded in my ears. My mouth might have hung open. What was?
He lowered his mouth to mine and the fork clattered onto the table.
The warmth of his lips and the quiet in my head梩hat抯 all I noticed. No music, laughter, clink of glasses, or creak of footsteps on the old heritage floors. Wyatt抯 mouth was hot, firm, and demanding, seeking and coaxing mine open, tongue slipping against the seam of my mouth.
He sucked on my tongue and I might have moaned.
In a restaurant.
Kissing Wyatt.
I抦 pretty sure I moaned. Especially when his hand came to my hair and he fisted it, tilting my head back to open me up more. A ripple of something hot and languid moved down my body to my core and I throbbed. His other hand brushed my jaw, gentle and light, nothing like his mouth.
He smelled like the ocean. Fresh and clean with something masculine underneath.
He nipped my bottom lip but cut my tiny gasp off by laving the sting with his tongue. He tasted me, explored my mouth, using me to sooth something inside of him.
I抦 not sure how long he kissed me before he broke away and rested his forehead on mine. We were both breathing hard, gaze locked on each other. I ached between my legs and pressed my thighs together.
揇on抰 practice with Beck.?His voice was low, barely above a whisper. His gaze locked on mine. 揧ou want to practice? You practice with me.?
I jerked a nod.
揂nd Hannah??
揗mm??I could barely speak.
揇on抰 forget the rest of your homework.?His breath tickled my mouth.
My core clenched around nothing and I nodded. He dropped another quick kiss on my mouth before straightening up and walking back out the front door of the restaurant while I watched, stunned.
Out of the corner of my eye, someone at another table fanned herself.
I fell back to earth and glanced around the restaurant. Except for the music, it was silent. Everyone stared at either me or the door with open mouths.
Avery stood at the bar with bright eyes and a look that said busted. That抯 what I thought, she mouthed.
Twenty minutes later, I flew through my front door, tossed my bag down, and headed straight to my bedroom. I slammed the door, whipped my dress off and crawled under the covers.
I thought about Wyatt while I did my homework.
I thought about his fascinating mouth, the way it ticked up at the corner, the way he watched me with that easy grin. The playful, roguish expression he shot me as he teased me. The hungry, furious look he wore tonight.
I should have been embarrassed at the sigh that came out of my mouth when my fingers found the damp spot between my legs. I wasn抰， though. I was wet. Of course I was wet. I had been wet since the second Wyatt抯 mouth took mine. I had been aching, twitchy, and wound the entire way home. I had never been so frustrated or needy until him.
My fingers moved fast, swirling over my clit, and in my head, I replayed Wyatt kissing me in the restaurant. I replayed Wyatt here in my bedroom, groaning against me and tugging my hair. How hard he was when I rubbed against him. Electricity shot through my limbs, and my fingers moved fast over my wetness.
Soaked. I was soaked. I had the bizarre desire to tell Wyatt, for him to be proud of me, and I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but then I remembered kissing him, being kissed by him, and I let out a whimpery moan.
I thought about what it would be like for Wyatt to lay in the bed with me. For him to watch me do this. For his fingers to work my clit. For him to sink into me, for my core to stretch around his hard length. For his demanding, needy mouth to take another part of my body, to make me writhe and grind on his mouth.